LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Chap. Copyright No. 

ShelL.i2^T ■ 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



Poems 



BY 



Philip Becker Goetz 




BOSTON 
RICHARD G. BADGER ^ CO. 

1898 



4 



MAY 



':^o-^ u^ 



This edition consists of 400 copies, printed 
from type which has been distributed. 



75 



35-'^ 



■o-'.l' 



COPYRIGHT, 1898, BY 
PHILIP BECKER GOETZ 



ACKNOWLEDGEMENT 

To the editors of The Independent^ The Chap-Bookj 
The Bookman, The Overland Monthly, and The 
Bachelor of Arts the thanks of the author are due for 
permission to reprint some of the pieces included in 
this volume. 



A PRATER 

Of all the mighty dead if some elect 
To elevate the living with high cheer y 
Thy spirit, Keats, to me supremely dear 

Preside above these altars I have decked. 



VARIOUS POEMS 



PREMONITIONS 

This morn a sudden hushing in the air, 
A softness delicate as flowing hair. 
Odors of earth low whispering 
The coming spring. 

On bough no redbreast from his perfect throat 
Flings richly wide his mellow, rounded note ; 
Yet who responsive plucks the string 
At coming spring ? 

O absent spirit of awaited love. 
All gift of earth and mortal life above 
Art thou to whom I yearn to bring 
Eternal spring. 



I? 



A SUNSET 

Oh did you see the sun yestreen. 

Oh did you see the sun ? 
With such a glory round his head 

Some victory seemed won. 

Deep in the west the field lay stretched. 

Far in the west the field 
Of melting green and saffron hues, — 

The whole sky like a shield. 

And everywhere were hints of war, 

Lo, everywhere were hints : 
Here shone a crimson heap of slain 

And there stray scabbard-glints. 

Strict sword-blades row on row were piled. 

Aye, sword-blades row on row. 
Slow dropping scarlet as they passed 

With struggle's afterglow. 

And not a touch of white in all. 

No, not a touch of white : 
The very essence of hard hate 

Shot earthward lurid light. 

When low in sea that face of fire. 

Cool, low in sea that face. 
The blood upon the blades grew black 

And night stole into space. 

And heaps turned gruesome grey and thick. 
Those heaps turned gruesome grey : 

O'er the dark scene like quiet nuns 
The stars bent as to pray ! 
i6 



CONFESSION 

Aye, thus before his own heart had been taught 

Said he : "I care not what they think or say ! " 
And flattered judgement that his youth had brought 
Such bravery and fierceness fearing naught. 

Rebellious uttered, too, more than his mind 

And from the hard road trod of many men 
He turned him, jeering those who there could find 
Aught lifting strife to make them strong and kind. 

But with repeated failure quite to sing 

The simple throbs and pieties he knew. 
Daily he longed for what had once seemed sting. 
The joy upon a host a cheer to fling. 



17 



THE SEEKERS 

I sought an old philosopher 
And said to him : ** O learned sir. 
If I be not too young to learn. 
My spirit ardently doth yearn 
To find what I have lost." 
The fleshless arms he slow uncrossed. 
His fiery eyes he glanced about. 
Last, brooding long, he rattled out — 
As if words were but wagon-toys. 
Fit only for slight girls and boys 
And much too frail his thoughts to carry — 
•• What is your loss ? I may not tarry 
Amid the wastes of mere discourse." 
I answered : "I have lost the source 
Of all my youthful faith antique. 
I walked with wise men, yet I seek 
More than they give. God is remote ; 
And when I try to pray my rote, 
I hear Him cast it echoing back, 
I see a visage stern and black, — 
An image of my soul. 
Nor all : a measured dole 
Of laws and essences they give. 
Whereby, they say, I am to live. 
Instead of my sweet God of old 
Whose very human arms did hold 
My heart with sorrow cold." 
*<Ha ! " shrilly laughed the battered seer 
And smacked his yellow lips so queer. 
It seemed two rotting pages clapped 
Their sides together. Then he rapped 
In a strange tune upon the ground. 
And in response with roaring sound 
Arose in shape a common man 
i8 



THE SEEKERS 

On whose scalped head lay bare the plan 

And movements of the brain. 

Gamut of joy and pain 

Him that old seer made hurry through 

Until as clear as two and two 

I saw all mysteries resolve. 

Feelings and thoughts and whims revolve. 

And aye I smiled and smiled and smiled 

Who once men's powers had reviled. 

But when I thought : "What have I gained? " 

The wise man marked my glow had waned 

And sadly counseled : " This is all 

Men shall in distant ages call 

The summit of experiment. 

Such feats they do who long have rent 

The surface of the world 
And into chaos hurled 

The hope and love of heaving breasts. 

Nature and all that on it rests 

Is God's brain, bared now more and more 

To sight of men who eager store 

The sick infinity of facts. 

Nathless, God lives and breathes and acts : 

He is all this and more, my child. 

Be pantheist or still more wild. 

His pulse-beat is as quick and sane 

And generous as summer rain." 

In bed asleep that night alone 

I saw a sight turned me to stone : 

A horrid hydra-shape through space 

Stalked, headed with his worlds, a face 

On each and marked with mad grimace ; 

And one blazed fever through the rest 

And still they smiled, heavy with pest 

»9 



THE SEEKERS 

Methought when I awoke next morn 
A thousand years in me were born : 
I felt the prayers of all mankind 
Transmute my blood to wine till mind 
It touched and, drunk with a new birth, 
I saw the glad sun girdle earth. 



ao 



CHILDREN 

When grief hath blotted birds from out the spring. 
Stripped trees of leaves and kept earth palled in 
death. 

Who then can of that season blithely sing 
Of melody and color and sweet breath ? 

And when the world of men becomes impure 
And heavy eyes look not but shamed within, 

I turn me to no heavenly height more sure, 

God's ransom-thoughts, winged hopes from human 



21 



THE INTRUDER 

On my heart as in days of old 

Lies victor my soul's one queen. 
Summer's here and the hearth is cold. 
Far away spreads the barren wold 
With many a moor between. 

Remember the day ? Too well — 

A day in May, of all days 
The rarest your love to tell. 
The fairest for blush and the swell 

Of breast, twin foes of delays. 

Then I spake : but her brow was white. 

No hint of a blush beneath ; 
Sad she smiled with her eyes flame-bright ; 
Near she leaned ; like a bolt fell blight : 

I kept my curse in my teeth. 

** Sir Roland ? " *♦ Aye, but too true ! " 

I froze. Not asking her how 
The serpent had slimed him through 
Her trust all virgin with dew, 

I vowed myself God's hand now ! 

Wassail had drenched his thin, lewd eyes 

In ambush for careless prey ; 
There I denounced him, bade him rise. 
Swore him the vulgar carrion's prize, — 

Prone dead ere another day. 

With words it is briefly told 

How she, loving me, bowed her down. 
This way I am pleased to fold. 
To kiss and to knead hands' cold. 

As if — feel ! how damp yet the gown ! 



THE INTRUDER 

Beneath the willows where they bend 

Arching the stream and tremulous 
With silver tears that sadly blend 
With choral wave in onward wend 

Like mourners — lay she, death-glut thus. 

Am I to speak when they ask 

Of her who was pure of sin ? 
Never to change worn mask ? 
Surely a pitiable task — 

What ho, there ! I say, come in ! 

You ? You ! by the wonder of woe. 

Claiming her even in death ? 
Through hell to your throat I go. 
Again I will follow you — so — 

Hate is my wing. Out, breath ! 



*3 



RETROSPECT 

Some learned eye familiar with the past 

Will read a hundred years from now our time. 
And at our acted lives cry out aghast : 
'* Then cankered Rome was neither worst nor last ! '* 

O future son, the swarthy hosts are strong 

And loud the blare their trumpets brazen lip ; 
But to that blare a silent warrior throng 
Flung back in ruddy deeds a victor song. 



24 



SONG 

Modest a violet 

Hides in a neighboring bower. 

Fearing the whisper of breezes that kiss her. 

Lovely in beauty's dower. 

Ah me, my senses, forget ! 

Blossom, of lover beware ! 

Else will he wake thee some midnight and take thee 

Far through the tongueless air. 



25 



ABANDONED 

*' That is your way. Now hear me mine. 

For every star has eyes to see, — 
And who says faint ones fail to shine 
Less truelier because more fine 

Across the deep to you and me ? 

That she was beautiful, you owned 

A moment since, I think ; and now 
What veers you that so uncondoned 
Dominion of her beauty falls disthroned 

Through one act, thought and measured ? How ? 

You say she never loved me well 

Thus cruel to repudiate 
Me, cast me out, and bid untell 
All vows and protestations, sell 

Her back her word and clear the slate. 

Once, friend, I thought as now you think 

Without discretion or reserve. 
I, too, thought life's one law to shrink 
From breaking word or loosing link 

The world so gossips on. My nerve 

Was sensitive as yours therein : 

But the few months have changed me quite. 
And now I know it is no sin 
That fairer man should run and win 

When me disease made hideous to sight. 



z6 



ABANDONED 

Had she (while there we leaned together 

Over the prow and sealed our troth 
Alway to speed so) meant it, whether 
My shoe show torn or boast smooth leather ? 
Could woman think a madder oath ? " 

Those were his very words, so much 

I caught of plainest utterance. 
When turning head, he tried to touch 
My hand, nor failed to — dead. And such 

A soul to yield to such mischance ! 



*7 



ECHO 

Tricksy Echo was born 

Just for teasing and mocking. 

At the call of my horn 

Tricksy Echo was born 

And my hounds weary-worn 
All to her went a-flocking. 

Tricksy Echo was born 

Just for teasing and mocking. 



28 



THE TWO SCHOOLS 

Two wise men walked in a wood. 

Discoursing of beauty and good. 

Talk waned ; tongues dried with thirst 

And bolted their lips till first 

Both drank at a lucid brook. 

And as they their way re-took, 

A woman appeared : 

They slowly neared 

And closely peered. 

Nor one to the other spoke. 

When lo ! she melted like smoke. 

Thereupon one declared — 

The elder, white-haired — 

** What woman was that, O brother ? " 

*' A woman ? " replied the other, 

** I saw not a woman here," — 

Ah, he was youthflal of year — 

" A goddess I saw, if a seer 

I be with unerring eye ! " 

*• A fool's eye certainly ! " 

Thus ever they held debate. 

Grew thin, and at meal sat late. 

Nor ever advancing 

Though always enhancing 

That famous walk in the wood. 

Now, which of both understood ? 



29 



WATER-LILY 

A dream in a dream. 
Fair bud of the stream 
Near the wooing brake. 
White petals awake 
To the sun's first gleam. 

Sleep, water and weed. 
Sleep, mother and reed. 
For the heart of this child 
Is afar and wild : 
Not of you is its need. 

Sun-smile to sorrow's face 

Traveled worlds in a pace : 

Lo ! a visible dream that remains, 

A prisoner empty of chains 

At a touch from the magic mace. 

And whither aspires all day 

This blossom of tear and ray ? 

To the parent afar. 

To the central star, — 

But the wave and the brake cry •* Nay ! " 



30 



KEATS 

A fragment 

O poet whom Apollo taught to sing 

And gave the lyre antique whose muted string 

Sang never clearlier than at thy sweep 

Of hand the bright, deep, mighty themes asleep 

In memory and long forgot, arise 

And visit with thy rare, immediate eyes. 

Thy diadem of sky, thy robing air. 

Thy throne of earth, and hear thy granted prayer. 

The sea, awaited minstrel of thy court. 

Before thee eloquently echoing 

Thy long desire ! 

Despite thy mortal spring 
Thy promised gifts to ripeness learned to grow 
Till now hope's autumn rounds th' empurpled glow 
Of all thy wanton-clustered fancies fair. 
Chill reason's frugal fingers, guessing where 
Most luscious hung these arbiters of cheer. 
Plucked prudently thy store and, marking year. 
Finds richer to the taste of practised lip 
Thy joy and tragedy. 

Then hither trip. 
Ye lissom Mainads of the secret dell. 
Boon Bakchanals, and ye of steep and fell, 
O pious guardians, the sequent host 
Of piping Pan, and ye who bleach the coast 
Where dulcet strains of music amorous 
Met your forever-listening ears till thus 
In wreck of fallen flesh, quite dissolute. 
Yet listening still, ye dropped a prey to brute ! 
And thou, queen vigilant, drawn from the height 
Of heaven, snowy with erected light 
Of contemplation, Dian, most romantic 
Become above thy Latmian whom frantic 

31 



KEATS 

Thy virgin arms and eyes and kisses drave ; 

And ye, once more devising how to save 

Olumpos, Titans bent beneath the hoary 

And rock-ribbed mountains, hear rehearsed your glory. 

Strife and damnation, and declare if e'er 

Your protest toned profounder voice than there 

In his recorded guess deemed worthless care ! 



32 



A FANTASY OF HER BIRTH- 
DAY 

Under the snow a violet 

In tear-drowse lonely lay ; 
Somebody whispered across her dream 

*' A queen is born to-day." 

Still she dreamed on for well she knew 

Spring's word and winter's way, 
Questioning much in her quiet heart 

*« What queen is born to-day ? " 

Many a winter and many a spring 

Had passed or sad or gay ; 
Fresh from the earth her children rose, — 

The mother grew thin and grey. 

Once in a year beneath the snow 

She slowly used to say — 
Quite to the hour she recalled her dream — 

"A queen was born to-day." 

After she died and they in turn. 

Their children learned to pray : 
** Oh that we live and come to see 

The queen who was born to-day ! " 

One day in spring the gardener came 

And took them up, while they 
Spent not a thought of idle regret 

Nor guessed how fates may play. 

Then they were planted with tender care 

In a house of endless May, 
Where the showers descended and sunlight gave 

In winter-time spring's own ray. 

' 33 



A FANTASY OF HER BIRTHDAY 

All the dark season they bloomed and sang 

Their purple roundelay ; 
Oft they repeated that nursery tale 

** A queen was born to-day." 

Then came a lover with heart of hope 

And carried them gladly away. 
Knowing no gift of truer delight 

For his queen who was born on that day. 

So when the lady of high degree 

Beheld them in array, 
*• Ah, thou hast filled my sweetest desire : 

These violets to-day." 

Down to the tremulous violets bowed. 

She kissed them, fain to stay 
Bosomed against the lips of the queen. 

The queen who was born that day. 

Lover and lady were duly wed, — 

•* But the violets ? " you say. 
Dying they smiled for they kissed and made glad 

My queen who was born to-day ! 



34 



THE JESTER MUSES 

He had green eyes, he whom I killed for her. 
Sometimes, scum-spots, they leer from out the pool. 
Sometimes I feel them curse at evening's cool ; 
But then I smile and hie to bowers of myrrh. 
Denied not flame of two high eyes that keep 
Me nerved the while with song I lull to sleep 
Her kingly sire who seeks the sepulcher. 

Ha ! let them hunt grim haunts beneath the wave : 
How idle spawn the fishes in the brain 
That hatched the filthy sin on Madelaine ! 
How wanton, lissom eddies lick and lave 
Those limbs of awful symmetry and grace 
Whereon could rest (he said) no purest face 
But learned a sudden crimson, then — a grave ! 

Only God's bosom holds our secret hid : 
He and my lady know my heart and aim. 
Birds from the bough absolve me of my blame :; 
I hear them glorify the deed I did. 
And when the king looks heavy-eyed and cries. 
•* A song, Rene ! " she hears me melodize 
And mask in merriment as I am bid. 



35 



A MORNING SERVICE 

This morning out to early mass 

I hurried all alone : 
Of all the world not one did pass, — 

My worship was mine own. 

I'll never seek a better church 

To mar this one I love : 
The floor was moss, the pillars birch, 

Unheld the dome above. 

The choristers were strangely wild, 
I could not catch their words ; 

I sat in wonder like a child 
Before the chanting birds. 

A chipmunk stood and stared at me, — 
I scarcely breathed a breath ; 

Much peril he appeared to see 
And trembled as at death. 

I wanted so to ask his name. 

This harum-scarum wight ; 
But at that moment, scorning fame. 

He scampered out of sight. 

As with the singers went their song. 
So with him hastened mirth ; 

They left me to another throng. 
These kings of early earth ! 

And much I pondered what they meant 
And what they tried to say : 

Said I, '*Twas out of pure content 
They chose that thoughtless way." 

36 



RELIGION 

If you have built your soul upon a God 

Whose being starts to shade at skeptic breath. 
No halo of all saints who there have trod 
Shall raise you higher than your body's clod. 

Some day, as hot your ardor leaps to song. 

Upon your choir chill Truth will stretch a hand 
And riotous will burst a million strong 
Through empty aisles and chancel Ruin's throng. 

Be then your God no god of yesterday 

And be your temple open to the air : 
Fear not dark conflict, greet the doubtful fray ; 
Not one sun but a host will light your way ! 



37 



SONG 

Again is come the merry May 

The merry month of flowers ; 
And birds grow bold and dare delay 

Where lovers haunt their bowers. 
Heigho, my lassie, heigh nonny ! 

Dan Cupid is come to his own ; 
And he swears by thine eyes thou art bonny 

And he swears thou shalt ne* er be alone. 

I sit me here and try to think : 

But oh ! the song outside ! 
The buds join birds so very dink — 

I will not be denied ! 
Heigho, my lassie, heigh nonny ! 

Dan Cupid is come to his own ; 
And he swears by thine eyes thou art bonny 

And he swears thou shalt ne* er be alone. 

For it is the merry month of May 

The merry month of flowers ; 
And I have culled you this to-day 

From fancy-hunted bowers. 
Heigho, my lassie, heigh nonny ! 

Dan Cupid is come to his own ; 
And he swears by thine eyes thou art bonny 

And he swears thou shalt ne* er be alone. 



38 



THE DEAD GRANDMOTHER 

She questioned never : these her hands make answer. 
These tainted, crooked hands from earthly office. 
Oh pass not so secure this humble pall. 
Ye high among the high, but ere ye pass. 
That hotter tears shall thaw your icy shrouds 
Than here are oiFered her, be wholly sure. 
A burial by stranger care afar 
From home ; alone, without solicitude 
Of children blest with breath of strenuous life. 
Unaided, weary, weak, surviving last. 
She yielded when the Master whispered " Come ! " 
The calm close to the harsh, discordant theme : 
A tragic theme — not tragic in the sudden 
And passionate blow of hate or violence — 
Nay, more a tragedy, more merciless. 
It was the subtler way, less cried, more modern : 
Obedient to live the life of failure. 
Outliving every precious prayer and hope 
Of womanhood ; to know to-day's gnawed heart 
More gnawed to-morrow, and to-night's bent shoul- 
ders 
Awaited by a grosser cark, unseen. 
But from the frowning past no less assured ; 
Saddest, in brief, persistently alert 

The sly and poignant thrust of daring doubt ! 

She might have said : " These, issue of my life. 
The world bequeath I, rich in naught beside." 
But silent, ere her aged tongue had framed 
The wish she kept in hallowed secrecy. 
One after one, a broken rosary. 
Downward they dropped and, like to morning dew. 
Commingled with the flowers they grew among. 
Thence, thence I plucked, here placed these violets, 
Violets in the tainted, crooked hands. 

39 



GOOD FRIDAY HYMN 

That thou, O Christ, art not the same 
For me and other men, 
I thank thee, but not haughtily — 
A Pharisee again. 

To me the richness of thy gift 
Seemed poor in the old phrase ; 
And when they said ** He came to save,' 
I turned me from their ways. 

I saw no devil in the world. 
But grand and aching gods 
Before whom aspirations moved 
Like Roman lictor-rods. 

I saw that in thine ugly death 
Thou hadst a word for me : 
A breath to swell the yearning breast. 
Desire to swim to thee. 

To thee, no more high God than I 
Save in a victor strife. 
Sweet brother and no king at all 
Save the one lord of life. 

And if of those who kneel and preach. 
The way I cannot see. 
Give all thy love — thy heaven's air — 
And the long hour with thee ! 



40 



FAITHLESS 

For this, then, once we shared the tacit pledge. 
Laughed and discoursed and judged as full of trust 

As when the gods of old swore by the sedge 
Of Styx, made sluggish with its rapine dust ! 

As if accused, yet willing to reply. 

Explain my part, or, at the worst, defend, 

I begged the charge and then you told the lie 

And for some bauble fault changed foe from friend. 

Some mitigation were in other wrong — 

Unchastity, when rapid ardor rules ; 
Or open deed that dares to face the strong, — 

Heroic signal here ; there, crime of fools. 

But a false friend is nature's blasphemy. 

Inviting blossom venomous at heart ; 
Beyond contempt's relief no penalty. 

No ease ere sloughing of the tainted part. 



41 



CLOWN SONG 

Heigho ! and a merry heart is mine, 
I laugh with the sheep and the kine : 

When their eyes blink slow 

At the creek'' s broad glow, 
I tinkle my bells and divine. 

They wonder where my lady keeps 

My lady Eleanor, 
None at the court for sennight sleeps 

But tracks the winding shore. 
Heigho ! and a merry heart is mine, 
I laugh with the sheep and the kine : 

When their eyes blink slow 

At the creek's broad glow, 
I tinkle my bells and divine. 

Still track, ye fools, nor mind the fool 

But ask the aged wise ; 
And will the teaching of the school 

Restore whom love denies ? 
Heigho ! and a merry heart is mine, 
1 laugh with the sheep and the kine : 

When their eyes blink slow 

At the creek's broad glow, 
I tinkle my bells and divine. 

What ! when my lady looked on him, 

A youth of poor degree. 
Who could have thought a jest so grim 

He scorned her prince to be ! 
Heigho ! and a merry heart is mine, 
I laugh with the sheep and the kine : 

When their eyes blink slow 

At the creeks broad glow, 
I tinkle my bells and divine. 
42 



CLOWN SONG 

Beneath the never-telling moon 

Within the mere he lies : 
Face hellward, hooded, — none too soon 

To soothe her spirit eyes. 
Heigho ! and a merry heart is mine, 
I laugh with the sheep and the kine : 

When their eyes blink slow 

At the creek^s broad glow, 
I tinkle my bells and divine. 

La, la, what tears are these, my cap ? 

Hence, frowning melancholy ! 
Green mound to pillow summer nap. 

Then wakes my humor jolly ! 
Heigho ! and a merry heart is mine 
I laugh with the sheep and the kine : 

When their eyes blink slow 

At the creek's broad glow, 
I tinkle my bells and divine. 



43 



REQUIESCAT 

Whenever a great poet dies, straightway 
The bardlets at his passing tinkle sobs. 
The unclean body given to decay 
They fain immortalize in metric lay. 

Long, tireless pilgrimages, too, they make ; 

Arrived at shrines, cry out "Afar, profane ! '* 
And sanctimonious tears and sighs hold wake 
Above the sentimental page, to tell the ache. 

Ah, who of all eased living that poor hand. 

Spoke needed cheer or jested not at faults ? 
Who loved him so that as he left the land 
He felt the tribute of a silent band ? 



44 



COMPLAINTS 

Language despaired and cried : ♦* I frame 
Only the mind's desire. 
I yearn to tell soul's fire. 
Like Music's flame ! " 

Knowledge proclaimed in echoing woe : 
** Facts are alone mine own. 
Such rule as Love's firm throne 
I must forego ! ' ' 



45 



ICONOCLASM 

But yesterday the altar's white was hung 
With gay festoons by featous fingers looped. 

Whereon to Phoibos of the suasive tongue 
I paid my vow and wine I liberal stooped. 

Who, then, when I her gracious favor won. 
Had said she was not true as Stygian oath. 

Him I had crushed to dust and shook to fun 
For breezes as I cursed time's cooling sloth. 

Now, Phoibos, take eternal overthrow 

Of that pure faith which pious eld may choose ; 

Surely thou taughtst me how to speak, to glow. 
To win, but ne'er that subtler art — to lose ! 



46 



A RETORT 

When Pindar sang long, long ago 

The victors of the course. 
And in his pride began to show 

How poor and tame the horse 
Of every other rival bard. 
The crowd laughed hard. 

Their children, too, for centuries 
Approved his rugged jest ; 

He libeled to their blinded eyes 
And thus one bard distressed : 
■ So old and copied is his verse 

And never terse ! " 

That silent fellow feigned to die 
And slept in somber Egypt. 

The other day a careful eye 
Awoke him for a rescript : 

Now Pindar, answer, if you please, 

Bakchulides ! 



47 



THE MAGICIAN 

I LOVE one artist, him who paints the sky 

Flushing now east now west with fleeting wealth. 
No brush twice-used, no color e'er by stealth 

Triumphant twice beneath that careful eye. 

Spirit of peace, aye stranger to repose. 
Unwearied by thy marvels infinite. 
Hast thou not, too, taught melancholy night 

To wear a million jewels like one rose ? 



48 



A CONTROVERSY SETTLED 

Once to bird of humble birth 
Came a song of skies. 
Aye he kept above the earth. 
Ignorant he furnished mirth 
To the very w^ise. 

** For," declared one solemnly, 
*• Well I know his breed : 
He's no better sired than I ; 
So I cannot see just why 
He the race should lead." 

From his height they plucked him down. 

Sought another name. 

Silent, this usurped the crown. 

Sagely pleading known renown, — 

But that song's the same ! 



49 



THE VENUS OF MELOS 

*' O QUEEN, move not ! remain one moment more. 

Arms luring so in majesty of guile ! 
These let me fix and I have thrown the door 

Of heaven wide to mortal men. You smile ? " 

But never as he saw he copied true. 

For never man from goddess e'er could gain 

A smile, that as he wrought it, stayed nor grew 
From tempting ease into divine disdain. 



50 



SERENADE 

(^For an air) 

Hear, love, and let thine eyes 
Open in starred surprise 
Upon no muted string 
Or minstrel whispering : 

Softer than distant lute 

Or the night-wind's low flute 

I gentle dreaming bring 

And with my heart I sing. 

I and all songs are one. 
They with my pulses run ; 
I and the air to-night 
Each breathe one wed delight. 

This is the sweeter way 
That thus remote I pray : 
Far from thy breast of snow. 
Close to thy soul, I know. 



5» 



OBSCURITIES 

To-day you see a rose 
And only color glows 

And speaks ; 
To-morrow still it reigns 
But other gifts contains 

And seeks. 

As for the rose your eye. 
So for the poem try 

All ways ; 
If never twice the same. 
To rose or eye no blame 

But praise. 



52 



TRANSLATIONS 



ANAKREONTIC 

(^From the Greek') 

Sweet is the song of Anakreon, 
Sweet is the song of Sappho ; 
Somebody mingle with these for me 
Pindar's sweet song, then pour the three. 
These would induce, I surely think. 
E'en Dionusos to come and drink ; 
And the sleek Paphian, too, would comply, 
Eros along in company. 



55 



THE CYDNUS 

(^From the French of Herkdia) 

Beneath the blue aglow with sunset blaze. 
The silver trireme pales the river's black, 
A censer's perfume trailing in its track 

Mid sound of flute and flaunt of silken maze. 

About the booming prow the sea-hawk plays ; 
And, like a gull that tastes the far attack. 
So, leaning from her shade no view to lack. 

Floats Cleopatra touched with crimson rays. 
Soon Tarsus, which the helmless warrior holds 
Wide to the air the Lagian unfolds 

Her amber arms where purple darks the rose ; 
Her eye sees not how, near her very breath. 

Dulling the gorgeous wave, in somber pose 
Stand the divinities : Desire and Death. 



56 



ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA 

(^From the French of Heredid) 

Their eyes beheld below the palace height 
Where Egypt lay in sultry slumber deep. 
Where o'er the Delta dark the river steep 

Toward Sais or Bubastis rolls thick might. 

The Roman cuirassed heavy as in fight. 
Warrior and captive wooing infant sleep. 
Against his victor heart felt fall and leap 

Voluptuous her heart in close delight. 

Moving her pale brow, wreathed with tresses brown. 

Toward him whose senses her sweet perfumes drown. 
She raised her lips and lucent orbs, and o'er 
Her bending low, the ardent emperor 

Beheld in those wide eyes, gold-starred as night. 

One boundless sea where sped a fleet in flight. 



57 



THE DEATH OF ORESTES 

(SOPHOKLES: Elektra, 678 — 763) 
KLUTAIMESTRA 

But tell me truly, 

stranger, quite the manner of his end. 

PAIDAGOGOS 

For this I was dispatched and tell thee all. 

The Delphic games, the pride of common Hellas 

In contest, he attended. When he heard 

The clear-voiced herald cry the running-course 

In order first, he entered radiant ; 

And all who saw him sat in silence, awed. 

His speed quite peered his beauty and he gained 

The victor goals, a prize of rare esteem. 

But brief to speak where glories crowd the tongue. 

So many times triumphant know I none 

To equal him in deeds of skill ; but this 

1 know : in every contest of the five 

He won the happy meed, to all proclaimed 
An Argive named Orestes, son to him 
Who once the famous host of Hellas called 
Together, Agamemnon. Such his prowess. 
Yet when a god would thwart a mortal, might 
Avails him not. Upon another day 
When sunrise marked the race of chariots. 
He entered, too, amid a throng of rivals. 
One from Achaia, one from Sparta came ; 
Two, masters of yoked cars, were Libuans ; 
And he, with steeds Thessalian, was fifth ; 
The sixth came from Aitolia high-famed 
For chestnut foals ; Magnesian the seventh ; 
White were the horses of the eighth, by birth 

58 



THE DEATH OF ORESTES 

An Ainian ; the ninth, from Athens built 

By gods ; Boiotian the tenth, the last 

In number. There they stood in place assigned 

Them by the judges as the lots declared. 

And as the trumpet bronze blared signal, forth 

They burst, wild shouting as they shook the reins 

Over their horses. All the course was dense 

With din of thundering chariots, and clouds 

Of dust rolled up behind them in the air. 

One cluster on they sped and every man 

To pass the cars and snorting steeds of all 

The others, rained his lashes till the backs 

And whirling wheels foamed white from horses* 

breath. 
Orestes, driving near the final column. 
Just grazed the nave and, slackening the right. 
The near horse on the left he drew in check. 
And still the chariots of all stood upright 
Until the hard-mouthed colts from Ainia 
Broke from control and, turning sharply round. 
Upon the seventh course dashed full their fronts 
On the Barkaian's car. From this mishap 
One crashed against another, headlong hurled ; 
And all the running-ground lay widely strewn 
With wreck of chariots. The Athenian 
Thus warned, with skilful rein drew off and stayed 
His pace until the raging horses passed 
Him by. Orestes, following, had planned 
The last round for a dash to victory ; 
And when he saw his one competitor. 
With piercing shouts he thrilled his coursers* ears. 
The yokes of both the racers held together. 
Now one and now the other darting first. 
Thus far the fiery youth in safety stood 

59 



THE DEATH OF ORESTES 

Upright within his upright chariot 

Through all the rounds, when, loosening the rein 

Upon the left just as the horse was turning. 

He chanced to strike edgewise the post : the nave 

Was shattered and over the rail he fell 

Caught in the cutting thongs, the while his horses 

Dashed madly through the middle of the course. 

And when the people saw him fallen out. 

Up rose a cry compassionate that one 

So youthful and so glorious should meet 

Such doom — now tumbled earthward and again 

His limbs tossed upward. Then the charioteers 

Who scarce could stop the frantic steeds, unwound 

Him so o'erbloodied that no friendly eye 

Beholding could have known that formless form. 

Upon a pyre they placed him and forthwith 

Will come the chosen Phokians who bear 

The paltry ashes of that stalwart frame 

Within a small bronze urn, that so this land. 

His fatherland, may be his resting-place. 

Such is the tale I tell, — grievous to hear. 

But unto me who witnessed everything. 

Most tragic of all scenes mine eyes have met. 



60 



SONNETS 



A CRY 

Hamid in triumph hissed : ** Stifle no cries. 

Stab the full breast till white with red it pour. 
And who are virgin, see them so no more. 

Obey and fear ye not deaf Europe's eyes ! " 

late-born Talos, now that none arise 

To strike and overwhelm thee gorged with gore. 
One prayer is left me though it give me o'er 
To stare thee aye below. God ! when he dies, 
Unsmitten by the wrath of Thy smooth hand. 
May he not end in passive ignorance ; 

But may the cursing wounds of whom he slew 
Arraign his lying life. Be his no rue 
Of easing penitence but in keen trance 
Of changeless pains in hell's unrest to stand ! 

EROS 

Methought I wandered where above a pool 

He leaned and fathomed long his own deep eyes ; 
Methought 1 listened, too, as in this wise 

He murmured low : " All subjects of my rule, 

1 summon you appear ! Maid, sage, and fool. 

Mirror me now your secretest surprise 
In this my gaze." How strangely loth to rise 
Swayed they before their lord ! some somber, cool 
With their dead past ; decrepit with lone waiting ; 

Or eyed superb with spirit's starred disdain ; 
Or caught in wonder of love's first debating ; 

Or white-haired mothers with the great, calm 

look, — 
When lo ! a blush this tameless god-cheek took : 
He saw pale Psyche praying in mute pain. 

63 



GUINEVERE 

I WOULD thou hadst been gazing at my side 
Upon the tragic show of Guinevere — 
A name men uttered once and then drew near 

To bless the footprint jealous earth would hide. 

So marvelous the beauty they descried 

In her wild eyes. Dim voices to the ear 
And loveliness enough to start the tear 

For waking hours, on easy air did ride 

Enchanting, that bewildered sense despaired 
Of finding where it most delighted stayed. 

And then the May-day with the traitor queen 
And traitor knight embalmed in budding sheen ; 
And the strong soul of Arthur low displayed 

And guilty love's rue swooning where he stared ! 

IZEYL 

When the prince cried the seer : " Enough of woe. 

From lepers, orphaned widows, and the pain 

Of earth, I turn a pauper, life to gain ! " 
The smooth-lipped harlot swore : " He shall not go. ' * 
Beneath the sacred bo whence afterglow 

Of all the faded world and where the reign 

Of saintly life began, Izeyl did chain 
In charm his careless mind till her fair show 
Of sin leaped covert of her lidless eyes. 

He cursed her and afraid of holiness 

She craved forgiveness. Sainted, for a kiss 
She slew her princely paramour, her prize 

But yesterday ; then, bloodied with no cess 
Of scourge, kissing pure lips, died into bliss. 



64 



KEATS DAY 

The season when above the empty trees 
The heaven seems translucent water-deeps. 
He first saw earth, — a time when laughter sleeps 
Among forgotten flowers or mid lees 
Of summer's brimming stoop. Even the bees 
Then frugal leave the fields and harvest's heaps 
Of richness garnered lie in careful keeps 
Against the certain need of wintry ease 
And cheer of ingleside. Such was the time : 
When nature grows reflective, bare of grace. 
To ponder fresh delights of sun and shade ; 
And so came he, the singer, sang and made 
Old earth with beauty happy till her face 
Changed to a Greek god's, smiling but sublime. 

TWO PICTURES 

Methought a seer waved to mine eyes two days. 

In one, wild scenes of war where rivered gore 

Ran plenteous along its human shore. 
Next, in the lull of battles when the brays 
Of trumps were dumb, I saw brave mothers raise 

Grateful their eyes to God although no more 

Those eyes would rest on the sweet sons they bore. 
Yet scarcely had they turned to go their ways. 
When lo ! among the dead a stir of hand ! 

I nearer moved and saw it was not so : 

Nay, skulking low, unscathed men were there 
Rifling the sacred dead. That picture's glare 

Froze me the cheer of patriotic glow : 
While such men thrive, ours is a ruined land. 



65 



SHAKSPERE 

If it be poesy to phrase the wit 

Of lords and ladies, clowns of all degrees ; 

Betray the singing of enchanted trees 
And on the green to charge the fairies flit ; 
Heroic deeds to sound in surging writ 

As if in battle-shock roared the huge seas ; 

Down through the brimming cup the lurking lees 
Of passion's rout to see and counterfeit ; 
To draw with unstained eye the agonies 

Of self-thrust jealousy, of love, of crime ; 
To look lust calmly in the face, yet smile ; 
To frame an ingrate world of measured guile. 

Yet breathe secure, serene, and sweet as thyme, — 
Then, poet, Shakspere, none to thee denies. 

THIASOS 

Round Ossa broods wide night. The earth and sky 
Lie in embracing arms so calmly wed 
That air, their common breath, with sleep is dead. 
Along the dense, fir-scented sides forth fly. 
Like myriad beetles, flourished flambeaux high. 
Anon scarce heard ** lo ! lo ! " down shed 
In showers of fierce acclaim, sea-chorals spread 
O'erwhelming nuptial quiet, surge and die 
In eddying weirdness. Tumult flames the peak. 
While vine-browed, panther-girt, with goading eyes 
Half-lidded, on they tread in drunk amaze 
The mystic rites, cloyed tongue too steeped to 
praise 
Clearly the godhead. Last, satieties 
Of sense, drowse, silence, — save one girl's quick 
shriek. 

66 



DEFEATED 

The silvered painter at his canvas heaping 
Hues precious, varied as if heart were young 
Again when the near glory palsied tongue. 

Toils through the day, at night-time niggard sleeping. 

And silver grows to white, no longer keeping 
Unmarked the fallows of old age. Unhung 
But finished to the last fine touch, among 

Man's masterworks it merits crown, yet reaping 

No praise of man : with brush still clutched lies dead 
The hand that wrought. O love, were it not fair 
That God forbid to their ingratitude 
The sun to rise revealing ? Then the rude 
Or ignorant might less regarded stare 

Or pass, the artist finding God his bread. 



67 



FOURTEEN SONNETS FROM 
A SEQUENCE 



I 

I WOULD not burst the bond that makes me slave — 
More highly slave than erstwhile proudly free — 
Bending to you a strange and sudden knee. 

Seeing you gain from me of what you gave. 

So little in return. Yet would I crave 
You call not little all the sum of me. 
For, if my spirit win the Eye to see 

It bright above the darkness of life's wave, 

'Twas you glowed me the day your spirit cried 
To me in one way none but woman knows : 

The caught stare of some queen from whom we 
stir 

With sadness on our past. Thenceforth I tried 
With pain and felt, as slowly white I rose. 
Whatever I could grow to be, you were ! 

II 

There are who much delight in rhyme's array 
Their loves' rare wit or loveliness or trait 
Surprised in some chance way, to celebrate ; 

And oft, methinks, 'twere perilous to say 

Whether they prize this dream of summer day 
For love or that love thrones their muse in state 
And makes the true queen on the tongued queen 
wait, — 

Who erstwhile served, now crowned with lauded bay. 

O love, my love, think not I honor words. 
Fitting them featously for thee to read : 
They honor thee and with obeisance cry 

Their ever-failing due, as timorous birds 

Fearful of telling quite God's wealth, man's need. 
Low sink their sweet throats singing, and so die. 



71 



Ill 

Dazzled with day's intolerable glow 
At set of sun from out the melting veils 
Of gauzy pink and blue, intent on dales 
And moors and hills and streams of earth below 
Appears the moon. No word that mortals know 
She deigns, but silent, as a vessel sails 
Athwart seas strange to her untouched of gales. 
Upward she swims ; intenser pallors grow 
With height on height. O love, my love, of whom 
Dream I enrapt in this wide mystery 

Of coming night ? Surely thy confidant 
Of absent summer eves hath guessed my want 
And caught me up : swiftly with her I fly 
Through airy oceans tossing starry spume ,! 

IV 

As one who through a dim cathedral vast 
Moving at vespers hears the choir remote 
Wafting with muted sweetness sacred rote 
Upon untutored ear, impels more fast 
Each wonder-winged footstep than the last 
Until he nears them catching every note 
No longer fused but clear, what erstwhile smote 
As empty, now full-quickened from dead past, — 
O love, my love, thus grew I wholly thine 
And thus I learned interpret thee with eyes 
Distant and doubting, ignorant of all 
The blessed meaning now so strangely mine ; 
And since I heard aright joy clear arise. 

Guard we this gathered good lest silence fall. 



72 



V 

Methought they hung upon the outer door 
Which welcomed me so oft, the woful sign 
That He had visited and whispered ** Mine ! " 

With unabashed and traitor footsteps o'er 

The threshold traveling. Liberal store 

Of bloom heaped loose or wreathed in amorous 

twine 
Seemed then to mock me and that empty shrine 

Whence the still thief had swiftly stolen more 

Than all earth held beside. Nor night nor day 

love, my love, I moved me from the pall. 

" Hear me and join me with thee " as I cried. 
Behold ! a radiance began to sway 

About us both and through it came a call : 
Or thou didst wake or at my prayer I died. 

VI 

With those who image Truth quite passionless. 
Of stillness Parian and moveless frame, 

1 hold not though that chiseled death they name 
Or stone or flesh. Beauty or Loveliness. 

When that I lean to thee and to the stress 

Of crying veins thou answerest *• No blame ! " 
Then art thou Truth devoid of fatal shame. 

To me surrendered white. 'Tis God's impress 

From the fierce finger of His writing rage. 
This fire outshining in the needy night. 
And shall we disavow our ardent youth 

Awake with flame to cheer deserted age ? 

If not an ember of their hearts glows bright. 
It never knew, — else died in guilty ruth. 



73 



VII 

I SOUGHT thee not for these, lips' ripeness, cheek 
Won rosy, but the larger gift of soul 
Each day more clearly to my welcome stole. 

And quickness of a mind eager to seek 

And search the goodness of the world, yet meek 
Unto itself. Health wast thou, liberal dole 
Of breath to straining lungs this side the goal 

Toward which I doubtful pressed : just as a Greek — 

In those old games Olympian beneath 

Rich skies and Pheidian Zeus' s golden gaze — 
Who, as he runs unfriended by one cheer. 

Quite desperate, fear-pallid, with clenched teeth. 
At last throws one mad look up at the maze. 
Sees two girl-eyes and feels his god draw near ! 

VIII 

I CANNOT understand the mad lament. 

The dead eyes and the quickly summoned knee 
To God in curse, of him who like a sea 

Beats hard the world in blind, deaf discontent 

Because a woman, whom he loved and spent 
New praises and all treasures with a free 
And kingly largess quite beyond degree 

On her fair, human qualities, has sent 

Her spirit or her mind or her desire — 
Be what it may — upon another quest 

To find, create, or guess him she would choose 

Above her wooers and the smiles that tire ; 
For, loving as I love, in this I rest : 

** If she prove false, it is not I who lose ! " 



74 



IX 

Of vanished years not one would I recall. 
Or wishing to live o'er a happiness 
Or to amend where once I did transgress. 
For both to me have been a present Paul, 
More eloquent than he, to teach that all 

The past with spotless skies that greet and bless. 
With thick-heaped clouds of guilt and ruth that 
press 
The memory, record the rise or fall 
Of spirit and no more. Vain are regrets ! 

If years have failed to make me strong and true. 
Surely appeal that time should slight the test. 
And gloze me o'er, is craven and begets 

Low living. They are past, thank God ! I view, 
O love, our coming years : each one the best ! 



In early autumn when the sudden eve 

With chill security deposes day. 

Clearer the steady stars pursue their way. 
And crisper air makes the sunk spirit heave. 
'Tis then that low, obscure, but skilled to weave 

With magic of her beauteous disarray. 

O'er city-strung horizon like a fay 
Rises the moon ; unmarked, swift to achieve 
And dominate the subject world she glows 

A queen among her awe-struck devotees. 

Her progress whiter on from height to height. 
Ah ! such, beloved, was erstwhile our night. 

So rose within our souls in silent ease 
Our love, there rules, there whitens as it grows ! 



75 



XI 

Now guess I sad October's richest mood 

When dry-veined leaves lie strewing the drained 

grass 
So thickly that when through the woods you pass 

A gush of sound starts like to vessel rude 

Stirring wide waters. Where the early brood 
Learned flight and later each to fledgling lass 
Religious paid his song and counted crass 

The loveless life, here silent where they cooed 

Stand the depleted trees. Hence the strange gaze 
Of chill October when through memory 

Runs pageant bloom, fruit, and too swift decay : 
Year after year, hope, issue, disarray : 
The radiance of love, its minstrelsy. 

Its sudden ceasing starting deep amaze. 

XII 

As well ask why the fragrance of the rose 
When call her perfect pennons to the bees ; 
Or why the ox-heart cherries staring tease 

Adventured robins to our frigid close ; 

Or why the orient Titan floods and glows. 
Shaking his locks composed across long seas 
Of calm ; or why the secret-laden breeze 

Hints mystery and passes ; or why throws 

Just one star red down the unmemoried track 
Abysmal of vast space ; — as well the cause 
Of all well-witnessed pageants ever strange. 
As turn the force of thought on that deep change 
When rending all once precious state and laws 

The soul knows love and toward the world looks back. 



76 



XIII 

How variously are men impelled to quest ! 

Some tempt the sea to dompt her empery ; 

More on the land impress their energy ; 
All enterprise in this is full confessed : 
The sweep of power, not the ease of rest. 

Some fretful few explore that filmy sky. 

The human mind, with worlds beyond descry ; 
And many, many more are sore distressed 
That life still hides her source with placid guile. 

sailing seamen and ye men of toil. 
Ye seekers of secure authority 

In air or earth, come, trust beyond your eye : 

1 know where all is answered pure of soil. 
For I have found love's white, immortal smile. 

XIV 

Methought we followed fast an old, old man 
Who, hobbling forward on his staff, woke mirth 
Scarce-held in us as, light with youth, on earth 
We left no printed footstep. Once we ran 
To pass before him ; but he, too, began 
Alike to quicken pace at every birth 
Of speed until we wondered what fresh worth 
Those dry limbs housed. He stopped : he turned to 

scan 
Us and he smiled the smile of victors great 
And offered me the staff whereon he leaned. 
Proudly I waved it off and e'en again 
Had almost thrust aside him staring, when 
Your hand in subtler wisdom swiftly screened 
Your eyes, and then, — your burning whisper 
"Fate!" 



11 



L'ENVOI 

Love, I am singing my soul 
To thee out through the night. 

Hearst thou no catch of the whole 
That I know no delight ? 

Why when we tarry apart 

Can we never be heard ? 
Yet when we breathe heart to heart 

Need we never a word ? 

This is the wonder of all 

That our lips are so wise. 
Ever to each raising call 

With no hope of surprise. 

Utterance when they are far ; 

But together, dumb bliss ; 
Taking no thought why they are 

And content in a kiss. 

Who would know more happiness 
With no question of goal ? 

Love, I am nearing thee : yes, 
I have sung thee my soul ! 



78 



QUATRAINS 



THE MESSAGE 

O EAGER bard, grasp well the dragon throat ; 
Let not elusive Proteus master thee : 
The joy of all the singers yet to be 

Awaits within thy paean cry its note. 



HYPOTHESES 

The wise men dream and, waking, make us hear. 

Till slowly their strange fancies draw our faith ; 
And so in days remote, hot, bright, and sere, 
God after god rose but to flee in fear. 



INEXPRESSIBILITY 

Sometimes I think there live within my mind 

Two kinds of thoughts : those I may limn to you. 
Tenant their souls in forms ; but Music's few 

Are free of form, raptured and undefined. 

THE ORACLE 

No pallid priestess with the god a-doze 

Chants me ambiguous answers from the shrine : 
I heed but beauty whose decrees divine 

Are heard in whispers lip-born of the rose. 



BROWNING 

The dim walls loomed one rudeness in the light. 
Gates scarce ajar. I entered hesitant : 
What marvels grew, each more extravagant. 

Thronging strange vistas on my dazzled sight ! 

THE HUCKSTER 

The grey, bent woman in the sunlight there 
Will tell you, if you pause, how tired of life 
She is ; the keen phrase strikes you like a knife : 

♦* She tires of daily death in God's sweet air." 

IMMATURITY 

Grey, grim, they circled pinioned Life and fain 

Would know his heart. Then, radiant. Youth 
arose 
To testify ; but like tumultuous rain 
They shouted all : " Tush, fool without a stain ! '* 

FIRST DAY OF SPRING 

As if it cannot quite be true, the breeze 

Seems laughing like a half-scared little girl ; 
O'er the hard woodland with a timid purl 

Steals the scant brook beneath still drowsy trees. 



82 



THE DECRIER 

There are who think all chisels must be Greek, 
And swear the skies to-day mere emptied bliss ; 

Yet after battle will the master seek 

Dumb fighter's or loud carper's brow to kiss ? 

PHILLIPS BROOKS 

Not like a star he dwelt apart austere. 

Shining diminished through the airy deep ; 
In midmost of the line his helm and spear 
Made warriors of all and banished fear. 

INFLUENCE 

If thou, my soul, with resolution strong 

Shouldst say unto thyself: " Henceforth each day 
Will I about some spirit's height delay," 

All life would rise flame-lipped with thy fresh song. 

COMPENSATION 

Where from beneath the sword the Gorgon head 
Ruddied the earth, arose as from the dead 

Winged Pegasus. Nor otherwise to-day : 
Genius will spring but where a host has bled. 



83 



THE EARLY GREEKS 

They looked upon the earth with big content ; 
Flocks sleeker never flecked an ample field. 
Fruits gladder never from a full bough reeled 

They shaped a Dian breasted opulent. 



SUMMER 

In halls of palest Parian mid scent 

Of gathered spice she drowses languidly : 
Roses immure her bath with every dye 

While Pestilence without spares not one tent. 



NAPOLEON BONAPARTE 

Above the blue no saint but bowed his head 

In tearful shame while earth's awed cowards hailed 
Their chief who, smiling, saw himself in dread 
Hedged close in hell with walls of human dead. 

OUTCAST 

On golden couch with storied tapestry 

More wondrous lay the princes with glad cups 
Of nectar while beyond that door to die 
Crept scared their tattered sire. Simplicity. 



84 



A MURDERER 

Because I loved her, lies she in her shroud : 

For life's too cruel blade I used another. 
Mine is the stupid frown of all the crowd. 
Mine is the glory her approval vowed. 

A BOY-CHOIR 

God sends to sorrow such apostleships — 
These children singing in their innocence ; 
The burning sacrifice with odors dense 

Were sacrilege before these ardent lips. 

SECRETS 

The Earth against the Sun one night conspired 
And told the Air she never would be bride. 

Air whispered to the stars and since that hour 
To keep their secret, all the day they hide. 

CHRIST 

From doubtful Pilate down to Peter's lie 
No syllable of faith or truth for thee ; 
But every thorn thy brow held, from its eye 
Dropped current red that love to live mast die. 



A CHARITY BALL 

The poor were hungry, homeless, and afraid : 

The rich gave meanly for no eye beheld. 
To-day the poor are gorged ; the rich have paid 
Yet what a price to dance and wear brocade ! 



NEMESIS 

** Op^every beaker drained I am the lees 

And ere you sipped you blindly stared my menace ; 
I brought you to your God on tardy knees : 
In mirth remember me ! My name ? Disease." 



SAVONAROLA 

As once beholding Dian the divine, 

Aktaion, strange to his known hounds, was torn ; 

So seers, transformed beholding Truth new-born. 
Must die while blind companions heap the pine. 



LATE AUTUMN 

O SEASON, somber with thy heart of ruth. 

How nunlike movest thou through crimson days 
And silver nights ! How thin thy lips where plays 

In vain the once wooed smile of rounded youth ! 



86 



A NOCTURNE 

The symphony of singing spheres afloat 

Upon the shoreless sea of night I hear : 
How all imagined loveliness draws near ! 
Soft shapes and the warm swell of mellow throat. 



CLEOPATRA 

Whether she blush or brave, — in each, doom still ; 

Whether she love or hate, no less her power ! 

Such thrall I live, I pray her brows to lower. 
Her lidded lightning blast, be that her will. 



SOULLESS 

** How comes it in thy Hell, O Prince," I said, 

" With mortal frame immortal thus they writhe ? " 
" 1 cannot torture what before was dead : — 
These had no souls, for flesh thrived in their stead ! ' ' 



SONG 

When all the moods had mated, two remained ; 
Sly Venus smiled upon their destiny 
That jocund Joy with grey-eyed Grief ally : 

Over her court their child hath long since reigned. 



87 



FIRST SNOWFLAKES 

A BAND of sly assassins palely drest 

They steal as wooers at rude Winter's hest. 

And, spying where each latest flower lingers. 
Dissolve their icy daggers in her breast. 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN 

Destiny framed a human truth and gave 

A voice that men might once again believe ; 
She led him to the nation's brimming grave. 
And there he bowed to death to loose the slave. 



SPOILS 

What have we later fighters won from these 

The mighty dead who strew the field of time ? 
From carcasses beyond fame's feared degrees 
Here but a helm or bright cuirass we seize. 



AN EVENING SKY 

To far horizon strand one amber sea 

Wherein lie moored long, blue-hulled ships of mist. 
Whence, bolder than his mates, yon warrior. 

Leaps with white spear and targe of amethyst. 



88 



PRIORITY 

Where one has walked whose prints with time are 
grown 
To sacred dimness, shall no other follow ? 
That were to fill eternal one dark throne 
And stamp all men apostate save the drone. 

DAWN 

Between the dark-twined sea and sky a line 
Of faintest blue and grey ; then dies the grey ; 
Blue purples ; purple trembles rose, — 'tis day : 

The drowsy sun wakes like thick-beakered wine. 



ALEXANDER POPE 

He never missed through careless aim his mark. 
Although that mark might be the heart of lark ; 

Much, too, he charmed with chiseled wit the 
world — 
Yet art can spare the best paroemiarch. 

METHODS 

Some polish phrases till full featously 

They throw their brightness on a world of eyes. 
While others hide in them a strong surprise : 

And if both gems have hearts, why this loud cry ? 



89 



THE BROOK 

** Why hurry so through glades of peaceful sleep ? 

The night is thick and none would blame thy 
drowse," — 

** Breathless I hurry from my mountain-house : 
For scranny ghosts their half-seen vigils keep." 



PLACATION 

Oh that this yearning soul I might at will 

Transmute and yield it to our ugly god : 
My clay-cupped all, libating I would spill 
If for that price beauty the world should fill. 



CIRCE 

I HAVE no potency, no Colchian art, 

I wave no spells as bards delight to sing : 
One glance from me on who would be my king 

Shapes him in form the beast he was in heart. 



A DREAM 

I STOOD upon a height steep out the deep 

And scanned the fathoms of the death beneath. 
When horror snake-like stole with icy creep : 
I saw her die and to her dared not leap. 



90 



LULL 

We hear no more the songs of health and joy. 
Our sickling verses chant of doleful death ; 

And yet methinks I feel the subtle hope 

That the glad gods ere speaking pause for breath. 



MUSIC 

God said unto Himself the seventh day : 
** Now all is done, I might again begin : 
Such sweetness unexpressed yet lives within 

My soul ; but let them guess in some fine way ! " 



ANONYMOUS 

He craved not gladness, wealth, or fame with days 
To live upon men's lips in lukewarm praise : 

But only that somewhere afar from him 
Some silent soul might bless his lifted lays. 

FANCIES 

As bubbles boat the air with idle oar. 

Born of your words my dreams outsmile the sun ; 

One frown from you would shipwreck every one,- 
Then be not rude as tempest-gods of yore ! 



91 



ORPHEUS 

From out this fatal lyre so long asleep 

I rouse the chord that tempted me one glance 
To her. O gods ! that moan, that formless leap. 
Those stubborn stones that followed me like sheep ! 



THE WORSHIPER 

Sometimes thou art not beautiful to me. 

Sometimes the summer of thine eyes is gone. 
Sometimes thy threat of night forbids my dawn ; 
Yet, ever — thus, or thus — I know but thee. 



MYSTERY 

(^A Painting') 

Two stood upon the bridge above the roar 

Of moonlit sea in passionate discourse . . . 
Another night : a nude girl and no more — 
A wave-tossed bauble dead upon the shore. 

TO A PIANIST 

Like an impassioned song-bird in a throe 
Of joy, tossing to air fine tones of fire. 

So sways the master with his melody 

And we who hear are dumb in strange desire. 



92 



MEDEA 

He cannot flee : the moment I divine 
His vassalage grows sick free to depart. 
His lying lips that night shall taste mine art, — 

One kiss deny all sip of others' wine. 

IMPROVISING 

A KINGLY city far from haunt of men 

Thy fingers have enchanted in my mind ; 
So in the times antique, the story ran. 
Old Thebes rose when Amphion's lay began. 

AFFINITY 

Surrendered each to each, heart to heart won, 
I marvel God may never let them guess 
That once they clung just thus in dumb caress. 

When worlds were night before the cheering sun. 

REMEMBRANCE 

Let me not slight thee. Earth, when in the fold 

Of spirit gladness I essay the air 
With wing of confidence ; still let me hold 
Dear converse with all bloom above my mold. 



93 



UNSPOKEN 

I MOVED amid the shades in Paradise 

And one addressed me with her dawning eyes : 

" Once in the world above we met and passed ; 

In silence loved we : now no eve our last." 



THE METAPHYSICIAN 

He played the god — our late philosopher. 

Teaching and practising serenity. 
To hate or love was equally to err ; 
And yet he had his passion, too, — to die ! 

SYMPATHY 

I KNOW not how it is that you are here : 
I never prayed, I think, that you appear ; 

I know but this that where you are and move. 
Masks are in vain and life becomes sincere. 



EUMENIDES 

All kindred gods have crumbled into dust. 

Though latest born of that once teeming womb. 
We yet abide who shall not taste a tomb — 

Of passion, gold, and fame the lashing lust. 



9+ 



THE IRONY OF FAME 

How sad that not the plumes we love the best 
Adorn our helms ! Despite our later blame 
(Sweet sonneteer whose one joke spreads your 
name) 

Mayhap great Homer vied in village jest. 

A STUDY BY CHOPIN 

Down would I hurl thee, horrid dream ! Wilt chase 
My senses from me in the restful night ? 
"Spectral I body all thy sins to light ! " . . . 

I fear thee not : 'tis day, — ah, God's the praise ! 

THE PRIESTESS 

Her voice is as a bell that bids to prayer. 

Yet will she have no worshiper respond : 
Austerer than a god's her templed air 
And the fierce glory of her shaken hair. 

APOCALYPSE 

I stood above the wide sepulchral night 

Where lay abhorred the earth, a nameless corse : 
Fierce meteors afar stared toward the sight. 
Slowly approached, then, shrieking, fled in fright. 



95 



THE POET'S IVORDS 

The children of his fancy we pass by 

For they are mendicants most humbly sprung; 
Tet, orphaned, they above our buried lie 

Shall reign in purple Truth forever young. 



96 



PRINTED BY J. FRANK FACEY AT 
THE GORHAM PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, 
FOR THE PUBUSHERS, RICHARD G. 
BADGER AND COMPANY, BOSTON 



